The Case of the Missing Mouse
by Terendel
Summary: Peter and Caine need to solve a mystery in Disney World


The Case of the Missing Mouse  
  
By Soulwindow  
  
Disclaimer: Fu folks aren't mine. No material profit made off of this.  
  
Peter crouched by the lake, staring into the deep waters, looking for answers. He shook his head, realizing that the answers, as always, lay within himself. But today he couldn't find them. He picked up a rock, needing to vent his frustration in some way. When he threw it as hard as he could, the rock vanished into the still lake waters, gone as if it had never been. Just like those six girls.  
  
As long as he'd been a cop, he'd never learned to get over the death of innocents. His last case had been especially hard, a serial killer who'd taken the lives of six young women before Donny had given Peter the lead that brought the monster down.  
  
And now the young cop sat in his secret place, needing some time to reflect and find the inner peace that he'd lost while dealing with the horrors that came with his job. For all the people he'd helped over the years, he was never able to forget the people he couldn't. He closed his eyes, trying to escape the images of those dead girls, but they followed him, crying out for a salvation that no one could provide now.  
  
So absorbed was he in his misery that he never heard the soft footfalls behind him. He almost jumped at the comforting hand that clasped his shoulder.  
  
"Peter?" His father's voice.  
  
The young man didn't turn around. He stared at the ripples, still echoing from his thrown rock. He wanted the comfort of his father's presence, but he also needed solitude. Torn by conflicting desires, he stalled by following the flight of a heron, winging gracefully over the blue waters. The smooth flight reminded him of a Shaolin priest in motion.  
  
He felt the elder Caine sit down beside him. He decided that he needed the comfort of that familiar presence and leaned into the strong hand which still gripped his shoulder. Paper crackled, and, in spite of himself, Peter turned his head to investigate the sound. His father held what looked like airplane tickets. Peter looked at Caine curiously. "Going somewhere?"  
  
Caine nodded. "Yes."  
  
Peter sighed. "Okay, Pop. Is this one of those times we get to play twenty questions?"  
  
The older man cocked a curious eyebrow but said nothing.  
  
"Okay, let me in on the secret. What's up? Why are you, of all people, running around with plane tickets?"  
  
Caine glanced down at his feet, folded into their customary Lotus position.  
  
Peter finally had to chuckle. "I know. I know. You aren't running anywhere." He took a deep breath. "Okay, you've done it again. Gotten me to laugh when I'm in a mood. Now will you tell me what is going on?"  
  
Caine smiled the half-smile Peter had always loved, even when, as a boy, it had driven him crazy. "We are going on...I believe it is called a...vacation."  
  
Peter's eyebrows climbed most of the way up his forehead. "Vacation! Pop, you've never been on vacation before."  
  
"Does that mean I should not begin now?" he asked, dryly.  
  
Peter shook his head. "I guess not." He paused, remembering something. "But, Pop, I'm out of vacation time. I can't go." He shrugged. "Sorry, sounds like it would have been fun."  
  
His father smiled again. "Your Captain agreed with me that you needed some time off after your recent case. She said that you could...borrow some time."  
  
Peter stood up and stretched. "So now I'm living on borrowed time, is that it?" He reached down a hand and pulled the older man to his feet. "Okay, then. Where are we going?"  
  
Caine glanced at the tickets in his hand. "I believe it is called...Disney World."  
  
*************************  
  
*It has been many years since I have had to work so hard to remain...impassive,* Kwai Chang Caine thought to himself as he and Peter strolled through... What was this area called, again? He surreptitiously checked his sodden map. Ah, yes, as they strolled through Liberty Square, past the steamboat landing. Even the steady rain could not dampen the infectious spirit inhabiting this fantasy land. *But should I not make some effort to preserve my inscrutable Shaolin air.* He glanced at Peter, who had paused to admire the stately grace of the large boat, just now gliding up to the dock. His son's yellow Mickey rain slicker blended in with all the others surrounding them. Once or twice today Caine had nearly lost his son in the canary-colored crowd.  
  
The priest allowed himself the brief thought that were aliens watching them now, the extra-terrestrials would be forced to assume that this place was holy ground to the worshippers of the Most Revered Mouse. Then he glanced down at his own colorful slicker and smiled at an earlier discussion with his son.  
  
*************************  
  
In their hotel room at the Caribbean Beach hotel, Peter held up a small plastic-wrapped package. "But, Pop, it's raining like crazy out there. You'll get soaked."  
  
Caine gracefully stood up from his Lotus position. "I have been wet before."  
  
Peter sighed. He was already wearing his Mickey slicker, thoughtfully left in the room by the cleaning staff. "Sure, but that doesn't mean you have to be wet today. I couldn't get you into the Mickey T-shirt, but couldn't you play along and at least wear the slicker?"  
  
The priest smiled inwardly at his son's concern that his father couldn't have fun at Disney World. Peter was sometimes blinded by the brands, and Caine had never been able to convince the young man that being Shaolin did not automatically preclude having a good time.  
  
Caine started for the door. Peter moved in front of the door and held out his arms. Amusement, mixed with determination danced in his son's eyes.  
  
The older man decided that a bit more teasing would be tolerated. "Peter, I am a priest. Wearing this...slicker would be inappropriate."  
  
Peter snorted. "Pop. This is Disney World. Everyone wears them." The young man's eyes brightened. "Pretend it's one of the robes from the temple."  
  
Caine's eyebrows shot up as he accepted the small package and unwrapped the slicker. He held the yellow plastic at arm's length and firmly stated, "This is far from saffron." But then he "gave in" and put it on. They left the room, Peter's grin spreading from ear to ear. His father wondered how much longer it would take his son to pick up on the gentle teasing.  
  
*************************  
  
The mournful howl of a wolf echoed across the bustling streets, bringing Caine back to the present. He looked up, wondering where the sound had come from. Live wolves didn't seem to mix well with animated mice. He noticed the gloomy old house looming over the water, barely visible through the drifting fog.  
  
Peter turned away from the steamboat to smile at his father. "Pop, I think you are going to love the Haunted Mansion. Jody said when she was here last year that the best time to ride it was early in the morning. Everyone else is in such a hurry to get to Splash Mountain and Thunder Mountain that they run right by the Mansion."  
  
As his son babbled on about early entrance into the Magic Kingdom, Caine worked hard to suppress the answering grin that threatened to engulf his own face. But then, why? And he allowed the smile to spread past his eyes and engage his lips as well.  
  
Peter stopped talking and reached over to lovingly slap his father's shoulder. "So, having a good time in spite of yourself?"  
  
The Shaolin priest allowed an eyebrow to creep upward. "In spite of myself?" He shook his head. "As I recall, this was my idea."  
  
Peter laughed. "Yeah, I guess it was. You know, I just never figured that you had it in you. I mean, you never took me anyplace like this when I was a kid."  
  
Caine's smile slipped somewhat. "True." He knew that the man he had been so many years ago could not have enjoyed a trip like this, but he didn't know how to explain that to his son.  
  
Peter pulled his father close for a hug. "I know, Pop. You never really got over mom, and then there were all your responsibilities at the temple. I'm just glad we can have the time now."  
  
Caine returned the hug, grateful, and surprised at the depths of his son's perceptions. *But why am I surprised? He is my son.*  
  
They continued on, stopping at Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and the Mad Hatter's Tea Party. Caine particularly enjoyed the teacups and the boyish smile Peter flashed him as the spinning threw them together.  
  
After the Tea Party, they walked in the direction of Mickey's Toontown Fair. Peter stopped to watch Chip and Dale pass. He waved, and the two chipmunks paused for a handshake and hug. Peter shook his head after they wandered off. "Wow. There is something about this place. Everyone is so happy and friendly."  
  
Caine shrugged. "Perhaps that is why they call it...the Magic Kingdom?"  
  
The young man chuckled. "Yeah, Pop. You've got a point there." He consulted his map again. Caine recognized the slightly sheepish look the young man aimed his way.  
  
"What is it now, my son?"  
  
Peter busied himself with an elaborate folding of the map. "Uh, Pop...promise not to laugh?"  
  
The priest remained impassive. "I promise." His eyes twinkled. "Unless, of course, you say something amusing."  
  
Peter swatted at his father, who easily dodged. "Thanks. Well, I guess I'll just say it, then. Would you mind going to visit Mickey? I'd...I'd like a picture."  
  
Caine smiled warmly. "I was wondering when you would ask that." And he started off in the direction of Mickey's tent, leaving an open-mouthed Peter behind him.  
  
*************************  
  
If Peter had entertained any thoughts that the rain would have kept people away, he learned differently when they arrived at Mickey's house. The revered mouse could be visited in a tent out back, and the sign out front proclaimed an hour's wait. Peter sighed. Well, one could hardly come to Disney World and pass up a chance at a picture with the world-famous mouse. He resigned himself to the time, knowing that his father, at least, would be patient.  
  
They moved with interminable slowness around and around, back and forth through Mickey's garden behind the house. Finally, they entered the tent and got out of the rain. This part of the wait wasn't as bad. A big screen TV near the front of the tent showed famous Mickey and friends cartoons. Peter and Pop laughed at them while they shuffled around and around. Peter's favorite was the one about the fair, with all the animals trying to grow the biggest vegetables.  
  
"Hey, Pop. We needed some of those cabbages back at the temple. Would have fed us for a week."  
  
"But I never could get you to eat cabbage," the elder Caine pointed out.  
  
Peter shrugged. "Yeah, well maybe if they'd been grown by Goofy I would've liked 'em better."  
  
His father laughed, and Peter marveled to see his father having such a good time. Too often, the priest was so serious, concerned with the lives and needs of the people he helped in Chinatown. Oh, he knew that his father had a wry sense of humor, and Peter appreciated it, but to see him laughing out loud so easily. That made the trip worth it, all the other fun things aside.  
  
Finally, they approached the rope which barred the way into the further depths of the tent, where the Mouse awaited. Peter checked his watch. The people here knew their stuff. They'd been in line just over an hour. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see eyes filled with love and humor.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
Peter smiled and reached up to squeeze the hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. You know, Pop. I've always wanted to do this. Back at the temple, I used to dream of a trip like this. I never thought it would happen." He leaned forward impulsively to kiss his dad's forehead. Sometimes dreams do come true.  
  
Caine pulled his son into a hug. Peter wondered briefly what all the people in line thought about two grown men hugging in Mickey's tent. He didn't care and returned the hug. His father took a deep breath.  
  
"I knew of that dream. I wish we hadn't had to wait so long."  
  
Peter nodded. "That's okay, Pop. Better late than never."  
  
Just then, the attendant came back to lower the rope and let them pass. She counted off about eight people--Peter and Caine were first in line. Then she re-fastened the rope and said, "This way please."  
  
Peter felt his heart pound. Okay, maybe it was silly to be so excited to see a guy dressed up as a mouse, but that was part of the magic of this special place. He put an arm around his father's waist as they walked down the short hallway. The attendant pulled back a curtain to reveal a small room. They entered and stopped in alarm.  
  
Mickey was gone, and his photographer lay on the floor, bleeding from a head wound.  
  
*************************  
  
Peter took in the entire room instantly. Before the attendant had time to do more than gasp, the young cop had noticed the door at the back of the room. It was ajar. He rushed outside, grabbing the door jam to help him make the tight turn.  
  
Outside, he glanced around quickly. Left. Right. They were in some sort of alley behind Mickey's house. He thought he saw black ears vanishing around a corner, and he started to run. He didn't even look for his father, taking it on faith that the elder Caine was with him.  
  
They both pounded around the corner where they'd seen the disappearing ears. Peter thought he saw the flash of a colorful costume vanishing behind another building.  
  
"We must hurry," Caine said urgently.  
  
Peter headed off in the direction of the bright flash. "No kidding, Pop. Geez, this was supposed to be a vacation. Never thought I'd be chasing after a kidnapped mouse."  
  
They raced around the next building and stopped suddenly. Nothing. No sign of a mouse. A startled Disney worker gasped at their sudden entrance.  
  
"Hey, you guys aren't supposed to be here. This area is for staff only."  
  
Peter nodded. "Yeah, I know. Hey, did you see Mickey come this way?" He shook his head and muttered under his breath, "I can't believe I just said that. He felt the quick pressure of his father's hand on his shoulder and sensed amusement in the touch.  
  
The staffer shook his head. "No. What are you talking about?" He stepped forward as if to escort them back to the public areas.  
  
Peter held up his hand. "We're gone. But, it looks like Mickey Mouse may have been kidnapped."  
  
They turned to go, but not before Peter saw confusion cross the face of the worker, who immediately reached for the walkie-talkie at his belt.  
  
Peter grabbed his father's shoulder and aimed him back to Mickey's house. "I think we'd better make tracks, Pop, before he calls in the guys with white coats."  
  
Caine shot him a questioning glance. Peter shook his head. "Never mind. Let's get back and see if we can help."  
  
When they arrived back at Mickey's house, they saw that Disney security had arrived. The attendant's eyes widened when she saw Peter and his father. She pointed at them. "They were the ones who went out the back."  
  
One of the security officers started walking in their direction. Peter leaned over and whispered to Caine, "Good thing I carry my badge, even on vacation. Otherwise, I think we'd be in trouble here."  
  
As soon as the officer was in earshot, Peter carefully pulled out his badge. "Easy, folks. I'm one of the good guys, too." He opened his badge and held it out. The officer scrutinized it for a moment, comparing the picture with Peter, who was doing his best I'm-just-a-nice-guy-nothing-to- worry-about look. Finally the officer stepped back and aimed a pointed look at Caine. Peter grinned and threw an arm across his father's shoulder. "My Pop." Then his face turned serious. "We must have gotten into the room just after Mickey was taken. The door was open, and we chased, but whoever took him and knocked out the photographer got away."  
  
The security officer looked interested and jotted down some notes in a small book. "Did you see the person who abducted Mickey?"  
  
Peter shook his head. "No. I just got a glimpse of mouse ears and costume." He turned to his father. "Pop, did you see anything else?"  
  
Caine shook his head. "No. The kidnapper was in front of Mickey. All I saw was an arm."  
  
Peter nodded. "Using him as a shield, maybe?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
The officer said, "Well, thank you for the information." He started to walk away, but Peter stopped him.  
  
"I'd be happy to help any way I can. I know it's not my jurisdiction, but..."  
  
The officer turned back. "Thank you, but enjoy your holiday. We'll turn this one over to the local police." He chuckled grimly. "I can guarantee that the abduction of Mickey Mouse will be handled seriously in this town." And he left.  
  
Peter watched him go. "I'll bet. That mouse brings a lot of money into this place." He thought of something. "Wonder if it was all a publicity stunt." He immediately shook his head. "No. That's not Disney's style."  
  
Caine agreed. "And the photographer was injured. That was unlikely to be part of a...stunt."  
  
The young man squeezed his father's shoulder. "Yeah, you're right. Come on, let's head over to Epcot. This place will be a zoo for a while."  
  
As they walked away, Peter was shaking his head. "Wait all that time in line, and all we get to see is the back of Mickey's head. Not exactly what I'd had in mind."  
  
*************************  
  
Word spread quickly that Mickey Mouse had been kidnapped. Caine and Peter heard frantic discussion of the event everywhere. Some of the life seemed to go out of the parks, but father and son were still determined to have a good time.  
  
The rain finally stopped as they wandered through the "worlds" in Epcot. Caine felt his breath catch when they arrived in China. True, it was Disney- fied, but the familiar architecture still held some of the feel of home.  
  
He felt Peter's arm slip around his waist. "Bringing back some memories, Pop?"  
  
Caine sighed. "Some, yes," he reluctantly admitted.  
  
Peter tightened his arm in a quick hug. "Did you go back during those 15 years?"  
  
Caine shook his head. "No. I did all my wandering in this country. I could not go back." He allowed his steps to wander toward a gift shop. Overpriced, no doubt, but he suddenly felt the urge to be surrounded by things that reminded him of his childhood. The store was crowded, and Peter had to let go to move among the narrow aisles, crammed to bursting with gifts.  
  
"Why not?" Peter asked as he opened the many doors of a cunningly carved wooden jewelry box.  
  
Caine could not answer the question. He stared at the box, which was almost exactly like the one he had given his beloved Laura as a wedding gift. He closed his eyes, remembering her delight at opening all the doors and finding the jade tiger broach he had hidden inside. She had immediately put on the broach, even though their next actions had removed the shirt she had pinned it to.  
  
"Pop?" Peter asked worriedly, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. "You've gone pale."  
  
Caine opened his eyes and tried to get control of his emotions. "I gave your mother a box just like that one on our wedding night."  
  
Peter drew the older man into a sudden hug. A few patrons glanced at them curiously, but Caine didn't care. At that moment, he was grateful to have his son with him, the only part of his Laura that remained in this world, outside of his memories.  
  
Peter broke the hug and glanced over his dad's shoulder. "Hey, Pop. Look over there. A 360 degree movie about China. Let's go see when it starts."  
  
Caine nodded, grateful for the distraction.  
  
The movie was starting in a few minutes, so they sat quietly in the anteroom until the attendants opened the doors to let everyone into the theater. Caine glanced around curiously, having never been in such a place before. There were no seats, just several rows of bars, he presumed for people to use for support. The screens covered the walls all the way around. Peter leaned over. "I've been to one of these before. If I'm right, there will be pictures all over. The hardest part is deciding which way to look. The screens won't all have the same stuff.  
  
Caine nodded as the lights dimmed, and the show started. Peter had been correct; different pictures often flashed on all of the walls, but within moments, he ceased to think and just allowed himself to experience. He remembered many of the places from his travels with his father, and he was overcome with homesickness. And yet, his heart filled with joy at being able to see some of the beautiful countryside he had visited in his youth. At one point, he turned to Peter and noticed that his son was watching him more than the movie. The young man's eyes glowed with such love that it was visible, even in the intermittent light from the screens.  
  
When it was over, Caine felt at peace. He resolved to take his son to China to give him a sense of the roots of the Caine family.  
  
As they left the theater, Peter said, "I could tell the places you've been to. Your eyes were shining so bright."  
  
Caine smiled. "I would like to go back some day." He hesitated, not certain how to ask his son to accompany him.  
  
He didn't have to. Peter looked at him shyly and said, "I would like to go with you." He hastily added, "If you would have me."  
  
Caine bowed quickly. "I would be honored, my son."  
  
He turned to leave, glad that he had planned this trip. He had been doubtful when the Ancient had mentioned the idea, but, once again, the aged master had been correct. He and his son had needed this time together, away from their usual jobs and concerns.  
  
*************************  
  
After their emotional experience in China, they mutually decided to go somewhere else. Since neither had a particular desire to go to MGM Studios, they hopped the Monorail back to the Magic Kingdom.  
  
Peter decided to surprise his father, so he held them back and let the station clear. "Let's wait for the next one, Pop."  
  
Caine looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Trust me. We aren't in a hurry are we?"  
  
The older man smiled. "No."  
  
They chatted casually while they waited for the next train. Peter had been so surprised at how his father had opened up in China that he longed to ask him more questions, perhaps even about the fifteen years. But he knew that the movie had opened up bittersweet wounds, and he didn't want to cause his father any more pain. Not in this place.  
  
The next train pulled into the station, and Peter guided Caine to the very front. The engineer stepped out to monitor the loading, and he nodded to them.  
  
"Come on, Pop. Let's sit up front. The view is supposed to be great."  
  
He smiled at the sudden flash of pleasure that lit up his father's face. They hopped in and settled in the very nose of the bullet-shaped engine. Caine looked out the large glass window with child-like enthusiasm. Peter sat back, glad he'd had the idea.  
  
The engineer boarded and settled in his chair. He smiled to both of them. Caine glanced questioningly at his son, who nodded.  
  
"May I...ask questions about the train."  
  
The engineer smiled broadly. "Sure thing. That's part of what I'm here for."  
  
Peter watched in satisfaction as his father peppered the engineer with questions about the monorail. He tried to watch the impressive view out the window, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of his father having such fun. This innocent enjoyment was a side of his father he'd never dreamed existed. He'd been doubtful about this trip, but now that they were here, he wished they'd thought of it much earlier.  
  
All to soon, the ride ended. To the obvious delight of the engineer, Caine bowed to him as they got out. "Many thanks for such an enjoyable journey."  
  
The engineer smiled. "Glad to have met you, Caine. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay."  
  
Peter knew the Disney workers were supposed to say that, but he sensed that this man truly meant it.  
  
As they walked away, his father asked, "How did you know we could do that?"  
  
Peter smiled. "Remember I told you that Jody was here not long ago. She tipped me off to a few things we shouldn't miss. That was right at the head of her list."  
  
Caine grinned and reached out to hug him close. "Thank you, my son. I shall remember that always." They left the station and walked past the milling busses, heading for the archway that lead to the Magic Kingdom. "What would you like to do now?"  
  
Peter's stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly. They both laughed. "Hmm, Pop. How about grabbing something to eat?"  
  
"I think that would be...prudent."  
  
Peter playfully slapped his father's shoulder. "Come on! It's not like I was going to pass out or anything. But I am pretty hungry."  
  
"Did Jody also recommend a good place to eat?"  
  
The younger man grinned broadly. "Have no fear, father dear."  
  
Caine shot him a look of mock horror, but Peter continued, undaunted. "Of course she recommended eateries. I was thinking about the Crystal Palace. She assured me that you could find something to eat there." He let his eyes twinkle, the only sign that he had another surprise planned.  
  
Caine shrugged. "I will follow your...lead."  
  
Peter motioned with a hand. "It's also close, just at the end of Main Street. Let's go."  
  
They walked along Main Street, enjoying the sights and sounds. The horse- drawn trolley went by, accompanied by the heavy clop, clop of the Percheron's hooves. Peter tapped his father's arm to get his attention. "Did you know their shoes are plastic?"  
  
Caine's eyes widened, and he glanced back at the retreating animals. "I had not."  
  
His son nodded. "Yeah, it's supposed to be easier on their hooves or something."  
  
They travelled the rest of the way in silence, Peter keeping a friendly arm on his companion's shoulder. They arrived at the restaurant, the only cafeteria in the park. Jody had said that it had a great salad bar, and Caine could certainly find something there to eat. She had also mentioned who frequently appeared at the bar, and Peter sent up a silent prayer that he would be here now.  
  
They walked past the many colorful umbrellas that dotted the front of the majestic, domed building. Caine paused for a moment to admire the impressive flower beds. He shook his head. "The gardeners here do a magnificent job."  
  
Peter shot the flowers a hurried glance before his eyes darted to the door. "Yeah, Pop. They are pretty. Come on. Let's go inside. I'm starving."  
  
Caine stood up to accompany his son. "Is there something wrong? You seem...distracted."  
  
"Uh, no. Just hungry."  
  
They stepped inside. Apparently their timing was good. The restaurant was crowded, but not unbearably so. Peter eyed his father, who was glancing around the room. He smiled when he saw the older man's eyes go wide. Standing behind the buffet, waving and nodding to all the customers was Winnie the Pooh.  
  
One of Peter's fondest memories from the temple was listening to his father read The House at Pooh Corner. He'd lost track of exactly how many times they'd read it, and the other Pooh books, but he never forgot that melodious baritone cycling effortlessly through the characters. In the orphanage, someone had brought the Disney movie to show the kids. He had enjoyed the connection to the good times with his father, but he had been disappointed that the actor's voices hadn't gotten the characters quite right.  
  
Caine turned to his son, eyes shining. "Oh, Peter. You remembered."  
  
The young man reached out to grasp his father's shoulders. "I never forgot. Sometimes, in the orphanage, when I couldn't go to sleep, I would close my eyes and think of you, reading Pooh stories to me. I could hear your voice in my head, and..." His voice broke. "...and it never failed to sooth me to sleep."  
  
Caine placed his hand on his son's and squeezed gently. Then they walked over to the buffet to eat. Peter's soul felt quietly content.  
  
*************************  
  
After dinner, Peter wanted to go ride The Pirates of the Caribbean. The sun was starting to set, and the brilliant reds and oranges made an excellent backdrop as they walked past The Jungle Cruise. Peter smiled to hear the bellowing of hippos and commented, "I'd like to ride that one tomorrow. During the day when we can see stuff better." He noticed that his father was looking past the ride, into the surrounding trees. His cop instincts came on line. "What's up?"  
  
Caine shook his head. "I am not certain. I thought I saw something move in those trees."  
  
Peter shrugged. "Probably just a squirrel, or maybe a rabbit." They'd seen many of the little cottontails all over the park early that morning. Peter had been mentally naming them after the characters in Watership Down. He was halfway through the ones he remembered, and it was still only the first day.  
  
"I do not think it was an animal." He turned to his son, eyes twinkling in the uncertain light. "Unless there are animals the size of people wandering loose in the park."  
  
Peter chuckled. "All over the place, Pop. 'Course, they all have names and are from movies. But, let's go check it out. After all, I haven't heard that Mickey has been found yet."  
  
They moved closer to the trees, eyes alert for anything unusual. Caine found it first and leaned over to pick up a scrap of stiff cloth. He handed it to Peter, who looked it over closely. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but he thought it was black. He held it out to his father. "You know what this looks like to me?"  
  
The priest nodded. "Yes. Like a...mouse ear."  
  
Peter carefully folded the scrap, being careful to only handle it by the edges, and then he put it into his pocket. "Hardly an evidence bag, I know, but better than nothing." He glanced around and shrugged. "Might have nothing to do with the missing mouse, right, Pop?"  
  
"Correct," Caine said blandly.  
  
Peter continued. "But I suppose it could be construed as our civic duty to investigate further." He winked at his father. "I mean, just until we have enough evidence that the park security won't laugh us out of here."  
  
The older man smiled slightly. "That would be wise."  
  
Peter touched his father's arm. "So, did you see which way the...err...animal went?"  
  
Caine pointed. "I believe it went...thataway."  
  
Peter smiled at his father's choice of word but looked confused at the direction, which led away from the Jungle Cruise. "Wait a minute, Pop. You said he was in the trees. What gives?"  
  
The Shaolin shrugged. "He was in the trees. Now, he is over there."  
  
Peter threw up his hands in mock-disgust. "Geez, Pop. If you'd just told me that in the first place. Would have made this all simpler." He squinted in the direction his father was pointing. He noticed a shortish, younger man in dirty jeans and a T-shirt. Peter couldn't make out the lettering in the rapidly receding light. The man seemed to be glancing around nervously. "You mean the one in the jeans and T-shirt over there?" Chagrined, he realized that he'd just described at least half of the people in the park, but his father nodded, apparently on the same wavelength.  
  
The man in question started to move. "Let's follow him, Pop. Just in case he's going somewhere interesting."  
  
Both Caines started moving through the crowd. They both discovered that following someone in Disney World was a bit of a trick. Someone was always getting in their way. They had a particularly nasty moment trying to push past Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, but after he got free from the round characters, Peter caught sight of a slight figure on the other side of the riverboat landing.  
  
"Come on, Pop. This way."  
  
Caine carefully extricated himself from an impulsive Tweedle Dum hug, and followed. Just past the riverboat landing, they jostled past a group taking a picture of their squalling child in the stocks and realized they had lost their quarry.  
  
"Damn!" Peter exclaimed. "Did you see which way he went?"  
  
Caine shook his head.  
  
Peter slammed his hand into his other fist, hard. "Damn. And I think we were onto something. He looked like he was trying to lose us."  
  
"I agree."  
  
"But why?" Peter asked. He gave his father the once over. They'd both taken off their slickers earlier, when the rain had finally let up. Caine was dressed in a silk crane shirt and black slacks. Not exactly Disney material, but not enough to makes someone want to run. "You don't look like a typical Disney tourist, but that shouldn't have tipped him off." Peter smiled broadly. "It's not like you look like a cop."  
  
Caine shrugged. "Perhaps he saw us back at Mickey's tent?"  
  
Peter frowned in thought. "I suppose. But still..."  
  
He started walking toward Fantasyland. "Oh well, Pop. We can still head over to Tomorrowland and ride Space Mountain. We haven't done that yet. I don't want to spend my whole vacation doing cop stuff."  
  
The elder Caine agreed, and they set off for the land of the future.  
  
On their way through Fantasyland, they had to walk past the "It's a Small World" ride. The familiar tune blasted out over the entire street. Peter held his hands to his ears to block out the cloyingly sweet music. Just past the ride, he lowered his hands and started to speak. "I've always hated that..."  
  
A hand grabbed his face, cutting off his words. He felt something pressed to his nose and caught a brief acrid whiff of chloroform. He tried to hold his breath.  
  
Twisting, he tried to reach for his assailant. He'd just grabbed a bit of shirt and was struggling for more when his father appeared and planted a solid kick in the man's side. Peter felt the cloth jerked away from his nose, and he gasped in the sudden breath of fresh air.  
  
He whirled, but the man was already running away. This part of the park was brightly lit, and he could clearly see that his assailant was the person they had been chasing earlier.  
  
Some of the other tourists were starting to react to the assault, but Peter ignored them and started chasing his assailant. "Come on, Pop!" He felt his father running at his side, and they chased the man back to Liberty Square.  
  
Just as they were passing from one "world" to another, Caine reached out and slowed his son's frantic steps.  
  
"What? We're going to lose him!"  
  
"Patience, my son." A few of the other tourists glanced at them strangely, but they paid no attention. Caine guided his son to a corner, and they carefully peered around.  
  
The man stood hesitantly by the side of the Haunted Mansion. He looked back over one shoulder before manipulating some sort of latch. A hidden door opened, and he slipped inside.  
  
Peter glanced over at his father. "Well, Pop. We might not be on the trail of Mickey's kidnapper, but it looks to me like we are on the trail of something. Shall we investigate further?"  
  
Caine nodded and started for the concealed door. Peter supposed that it led into the employee section of the ride. When they got closer, he realized that it wasn't really concealed, just made so that it didn't catch the eye on a casual look.  
  
Peter glanced around. No one seemed to be paying much attention to them. "I don't suppose you can open this, Pop?"  
  
Caine rubbed his hands together slowly and held them up to the door. Peter heard a faint "click," and the door swung open slightly. One last look to make sure they weren't being observed. He didn't detect any unusual attention, so he turned to his father, who was already going through the door.  
  
"Hey, wait for me," Peter whispered as he followed.  
  
The door closed behind them, and Peter paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He heard his father moving up ahead, and he hurried to follow, praying that Shaolin training also gave the ability to see in pitch darkness. He certainly couldn't see a thing.  
  
"Pop," he said urgently, pitching his voice low. Wouldn't do for some maintenance person to hear them. "Can you see where you're going. I sure can't."  
  
The calm reply soothed jangled nerves. "I can see enough. This way."  
  
A hand reached back and unerringly grabbed his. Peter shook his head, wondering yet again how his father did that. They walked in silence for a ways. Eerie groans and shrieks filled the air. He knew that they were just from the ride, but the sounds still made him shiver. At one point, they walked underneath the loud grindings of machinery. Peter's imagination turned them into some sort of giant mechanism for shredding out-of-town cops. A hand firmly squeezed his, and Peter took a deep breath, getting his emotions under control.  
  
His sense of direction was so mucked up that he wasn't certain how far they'd walked when his father whispered, "Up ahead. Do you see the light?"  
  
Peter strained to see in the darkness, but just at the edge of his vision, he made out the faint aura from what was probably a flashlight. He also heard the faint tones of conversation. He couldn't make out the words, but one of the speakers sounded agitated. Peter nodded. "Yeah, I see it. Suppose that's our guy?"  
  
The soft voice beside him. "I think it...likely."  
  
"Well, Pop. You're the one who can see. Got a plan?"  
  
He heard the smile in his father's tone. "I would suggest the direct approach."  
  
Peter couldn't help but smile back, even though the darkness hid his expression. "You mean, just walk up and kick some butt?"  
  
"I would have perhaps put it more elegantly, but essentially, yes."  
  
"All right. Let's go." He started forward, toward the light. They moved quickly, hoping to surprise whoever was up ahead. After a moment, they could make out voices, though the light and speakers were still hidden behind a corner.  
  
"But I've always wanted to be Mickey. I'd be good at it."  
  
The other voice was muffled, but if Peter strained, he could make out a few words. Something about someone being too short? He shrugged. It didn't make any sense, but he was too focused on his objective at the moment to try to figure it out.  
  
Finally, they turned the corner and saw that the flashlight illuminated a medium-sized room, possibly a storage room. There were numerous boxes and pieces of machinery scattered about. The man with the T-shirt was standing in front of Mickey Mouse. He was yelling and brandishing his fists at the famous rodent, but Peter couldn't make out what he was saying-the man was spluttering more than talking.  
  
Peter quickly assessed the situation and decided that his father was right about the direct approach. The young cop measured the distance and rushed T- shirt, bowling him over. Peter winced as his shoulder hit the hard concrete, but he tried to ignore the pain and struggled for a good grip.  
  
Caine followed and grabbed Mickey's hand, starting to lead the costumed rodent to safety. Peter continued to wrestle with T-shirt, but the man was quick and slipped out of the cop's grasp. He stood up and pulled out a gun. "Stop there. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I won't let anyone stand in my way, either."  
  
Peter rolled to his feet, cursing the sudden addition of weaponry to this not-so cozy arrangement. His eyes darted to the exit, and he saw that his father was out of the room. He nodded, presuming that Mickey was safe with the priest. Okay, that just left him with the gun-toting crazy. His eyes darted around the room and fastened on a discarded costume in a heap on the floor. He wasn't sure, but he thought it looked like Donald Duck.  
  
The man tried to get past him, but Peter put out his hands, trying to stay between the gun and the door. He wanted to give his father as much time as possible. Besides, he'd talked down crazier people than this.  
  
"Hey, why don't you just put that down." He nodded over at the costume. "You usually play Donald?"  
  
Mistake. The man's eyes blazed with fury, and he advanced, waving the gun. "Yeah. That's all they'll ever let me be." His voice turned pleading. "But I can do Mickey. I know I can. But they won't ever let me."  
  
Peter kept his voice calm and reasonable. "So, who's 'they' anyway? And why won't they let you do Mickey?"  
  
"The people who run the park, of course." The man's voice whined further. Peter almost wanted to put his hands over his ears. "Donald" had a particularly painful whine. "They say that I'm too short. That I can't fit in the costume." He suddenly lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I can fit, you know." Peter noticed that the gun dipped along with the volume. His mind frantically tried to figure if he could jump the whacko.  
  
But then the man lifted the gun and continued. "I snuck into the costume room once and tried it on." He raised his voice a bit. "It fit just perfect. Oh, maybe a big large, but not enough that you'd notice it."  
  
The man edged a bit to the right, obviously trying to get around Peter, who moved with him, trying at the same time to close the distance just a bit. Success. He was now just out of kicking reach of the gun hand. One more step, and he'd have him.  
  
He put up his hands in a non-threatening manner and tried to step forward a pace. The man waved the gun and also stepped back, but not as far. Just a few more inches now.  
  
"Hey, don't try anything funny," Donald warned.  
  
"Not me," Peter assured him. "I'm not the funny stuff kind of guy." His mind raced before it fastened on a possible approach. "So, it sounds to me like you've gotten a raw deal. But..." and he gestured at the gun. "...how is this going to fix anything?"  
  
The man answered, his voice smug. "Well, I figured I'd keep Mickey out of the way for a few days, and then they'd have to let me try."  
  
Peter could see holes in the argument large enough to drive the Space Shuttle through, but he didn't mention any of them. He tried to shuffle forward half a step. The man didn't react. Okay, now he was within reach. Maybe he could come up with a small distraction. "So, you think that waving this gun around is really going to work. Sounds to me like you need to negotiate with someone."  
  
There. At the mention of the gun, Donald's eyes shifted to look at his weapon, just enough to give Peter the opening he was waiting for. He kicked out and knocked the gun out of Donald's hands. The man watched it fly across the room. Then he slumped and held out his hands.  
  
"Well, I guess I didn't really expect it to work," he said sadly.  
  
Just then Caine appeared, several security guards in tow. Peter turned. "So what took you so long, Pop?"  
  
His father shrugged, a small smile playing about his eyes. "Mickey could not see as well in the dark as a rodent should. It took us a while to get outside."  
  
The guards pushed past Peter and took "Donald" into custody. "Come on, then, Daniel. This will be the last crazy stunt you pull."  
  
Peter and Caine followed them. This time the guards had heavy-duty flashlights, and their way was well-lit. One of the guards thanked them.  
  
"We kind of figured that Daniel had Mickey. He's been wanting the job for a long time." He shook his head. "Not the kid's fault he's only the right size for the Donald costume. We never expected him to pull a stunt like this, though."  
  
"So you would have found him eventually?" Peter asked.  
  
The guard nodded. "Yeah, we knew he had him hidden away somewhere, but there's so many places he could hide that it would have taken forever. So, your help was welcome." He looked around and shook his head. "Should have figured he'd come here. I mean, hiding someone below the Mansion. Seems kind of obvious once you think about it. Who's going to notice one more scream? But we were looking in the Toontown Fair, figuring he'd stay closer to home."  
  
They emerged from the Mansion, and the guards took Daniel off. Mickey was standing around, greeting relieved fans. Apparently they'd grabbed a handler for him, and another guard hovered nearby as well.  
  
Peter clapped his father's arm. "Well, I guess that's it for us. Suppose we head off and enjoy the rest of our vacation?"  
  
Caine nodded, and they moved off, trying again to get to Space Mountain.  
  
But before they had walked three steps, Mickey's handler came running after them. "Hey, wait! You the guys who found Mickey?"  
  
They stopped and nodded.  
  
"Good. Well, the park director wants to reward you for your efforts."  
  
Caine started to speak. "Reward is not..." But the handler cut him off.  
  
"If you can make it, we're planning a special breakfast tomorrow with Mickey and any other characters you'd like to see. Can you make that?"  
  
Peter smiled at her and glanced at his father. "I think we can accept that reward, but only if Pooh shows up too. What do you think, Pop?"  
  
Caine bowed deeply. "I would be honored to attend."  
  
Peter turned back to the woman. "Good. That's settled. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finally make it to Space Mountain."  
  
He put a hand on his father, and they walked off toward the future.  
  
THE END 


End file.
